Love and Betrayal
by PegasusAcc
Summary: The long awaited chapter six is now posted! “You just don’t understand at all Quatre. I look at her and I see the same eyes, the same smile, the same hair falling around her face. I look at her and I never know whether to hold her, or strangle her.
1. Chapter One

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Authors Note: This is my FIRST ever Trowa fic, *yay* so don't complain if it's not all that well written. It contains the character Midii Une (which to some may be foreign) from his manga. I hope this turns out well, being my first Trowa fan fiction, let alone a fan fiction using such a minor character. Don't forget to tell me how I'm doing by reviews!

Love and Betrayal:

Chapter One

The mobile suits slammed together like ravage bulls in a ring, their anger red flags. Flames erupted as fuel from the fallen suits added to its fury. The ear-splitting cacophony of metal against metal echoed across the battlefield, while the hollow screams of assassinated soldiers vanished in the passing breeze.

Trowa's fingers flew over the controls, the soft blue glow reflecting off his tired face. His breath was ragged, coming in short rasps. Small beads of perspiration slid down his forehead and into his eyes, slightly blurring his vision. A small video screen popped up on the side panel. 

"Trowa, take it easy." Heero commanded, his face stern and emotionless. "You need to pace yourself. You're wearing yourself down too early and you still have more mobile suits to defeat."

"Acknowledged." he panted, dogging a Leo's shot and turning around to destroy it with a bombardment of ammunition. Heero still didn't look satisfied. His eyes seemed to pierce through Trowa, and he couldn't help but feel slightly uneasy. 

"Trowa. Why are you so unfocused?" Trowa shook his head.

"Just tired I guess." Still unconvinced, Heero returned to his own battle. **_'_**I honestly don't know why I'm so unfocused.' Trowa confessed to himself. _'But I have this anomalous feeling that I'll know soon enough.' _

Suddenly, another Leo sprang up from behind Trowa catching him off guard. His reflexes quicker then those of the other pilot, he quickly pivoted around and knocked the suit off with a few shots of his machine guns. The suit began to smoke, and sparks flew from the joints. The cockpit panel popped open, the pilot desperately trying to get out before the suit exploded. Trowa raised his gun, preparing to kill the emerging pilot. He could barely see the huddled figure through the smoke. _'Come on,' _he thought to himself _'just a few more steps and you're mine.' _The figure appeared, and just as he was about to pull the trigger, his heart stopped.

Gold curls framed a still youthful face. Eyes, such a blue that would put the very heavens to shame, gazed up at the gundam Heavyarms from under a dark scorn. 

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'No,' Trowa whispered urgently to himself _'I thought she was dead. How can she still be alive? How?'_

Just then, the suit exploded, sending the pilot soaring through the air like a rag doll. Trowa couldn't breath. _'No,'_ he whispered again. _ 'I thought she was dead . . .'_

"Um, Trowa?" Duo asked, uncertain of why they were prowling through the rubble. "What exactly are we looking for?"

Trowa pried a sheet of metal aside, looking underneath. "We're not looking for anything Duo," he said peeking under another piece of metal. "We're looking for someone." Duo looked around at the group, counting heads.

"Um, Trowa? Did you get hit on the head? All of us are here." Trowa ignored him and continued to rummage around through the scraps. Duo looked at him in a quizzical manner. 

"Well at least tell me who we are looking for, and why they're so special." He said in a hurt tone, scratching his head. "Trowa?" He said once he noticed the pilot still paying him no attention and digging under the remains of an enemy Leo. "Trowa!"

Trowa emerged from the scrapes, a battered figure lying limp in his arms. The other gundam pilots could do nothing more then stare. Even Heero, the perfect soldier, looked confused. Trowa walked toward the group and placed the dismantled figure on the ground. 

"We went prowling through all this carnage to find an enemy soldier?!" Duo shouted, incredulous. Trowa nodded stiffly. Quatre shook his head.

"I don't get it Trowa. You've never cared about the enemy enough to try and save them _after_ you've destroyed them before." Trowa remained silent, but began to tear away at the soldier's jacket to get to the wounds. 

"I don't think I can exactly explain why I saved her in the first place. I guess this soldier reminded me of someone that I once knew a long, long time ago." By now Trowa had found the main gash. She had taken numerous hits, but this was the worst by far. It was on her left side and had to be a cut of at least four and a half inches long. It was bleeding profusely, and if it wasn't treated immediately, she would die. Frantically Trowa removed his own jacket and wrapped it around her waist. _'Indeed I thought it was her. But this is not the Midii I left so long ago. She's changed.'_ Trowa looked up at the others.

"She needs help. Now. How far away are Noin and Sally positioned?" Wu Fei looked over the horizon. 

"Well, we shifted a bit during the battle, and it looks as if we've moved a bit more to the west, but I'd say we're no farther away then a mile or so." Trowa nodded his thanks and hoisted the dying figure into his arms and climbed into Heavyarm's cockpit.

"I'll meet you all there." With that he closed the hatch and lumbered off into the distance and the slowly expiring sunset. 


	2. Chapter Two

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Author's Note: How's it going everyone? I'm sorry that you have all had to tolerate only half of chapter two for so long, but I have had so little time (and sleep) in the past weeks that I have had no time for my fan fiction what so ever (and have ended up looking like a banshee from hell). I have played so many of them over in my mind, and now I finally have the opportunity to get at least one of them down on paper. My only hope is that they carry the impact that is intended and the effect implied. *Crosses fingers and prays real hard* The mood as well should hopefully come across precisely as planed…hopefully. However, I just wanted to thank all of you who are faithful readers and are constantly checking to see if I bother to continue writing. It's because of you that I write in the first place…thanks.

~Peg

Love and Betrayal:

Chapter Two

Midii gradually opened her eyes. Shadows swam amid her vision as her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim glow. Her head vibrated with the unremitting pounding that echoed inside of her head. The sound filled her ears, and for a while all she could hear was the constant hammering.

Steadily, she became able to see outlines of objects in the darkened room. Large cumbersome items cluttered the walls, stacked upon endless shelves. 

The room was warm and humid; a bit stale but compared to that of a mobile suit cockpit she readily accepted it. She lay on the bed, motionless, her breath still coming in short, labored pants.

As the pounding began to cease, she could hear the beeping of monitors, the soft hum of machinery and faint voices from outside her door. They were foreign to her and set her on alert. She attempted to sit up, but an immense pain in her left side prevented her. She moaned in annoyance, not used to being bedridden do to such a small injury. She placed her head heavily against the pillow and made an effort to decipher what the figures outside her door were conversing about. Only fragments filtered through the massive doorway, and the figures were whispering softly among themselves, but she remained patient, listening suspiciously.

"I can't believe that she survived this long. It's completely amazing that you were able to get her here in time. If her wound had gone unattended to for much longer, she would have died of blood loss. That's not to mention the unbelievable infections which would indubitably ensue."

"She will be alright though, won't she...?"

"I'm not exactly sure, but she seems like a fighter. She's got a valiant spirit, one that I don't see in most victims. So far all the medications are taking effect, but things could change for the worse at any moment. I'd say that there's an undeniable possibility that she will live, but it's more recovery that I'm worried about. Almost anyone can be saved Trowa…It only matters what the person does with their life once they've been given the second chance."

A short pause followed. Midii sighed silently. She could tell that the two were talking about her, but there was something else that beset her tired mind. She translated that there was both a male and female voice, but one of them seemed so familiar. It seemed to have change slightly, the tone had become somewhat deeper, but it was still the same soft and concise voice that she remembered from so long ago. If only she could remember where the voice had come from…

Sleep tugged at her eyelids and her head once again began to swim. As she slowly began to drift into a quiet doze, she heard the voices begin to speak again. "Could I see her Sally?" There was a brief shuffle, and the massive door to Midii's room creaked open. 

Midii was already halfway asleep, but she could still make out the figure that lined the door. The light from the back room silhouetted him slightly, but Midii could see intense green eyes peeking out from behind a sweep of brown hair. He was tall, lean and masculine, but possessed an impression of guilt. And then it clicked inside her mind.

As the figure silently turned to leave, she hoarsely whispered "Nan…ashi…" before falling back into a deep slumber.

Trowa stood transfixed in the doorway, the name still hanging dead among the stiff air, like the smell of death. His muscles tensed as his breath became caught in his chest. Slowly he turned, staring back at the figure that lay motionless, except for the occasional rise and fall of her chest.

He walked cautiously towards the hospital cot. As he gazed at the dismantled figure, flashes of the once naïve child blinded his vision. What had it been that she said to him so long ago? '_I longed to be like you. I can't even tell the person I love how I feel about him! Do you know why?! Because I'm not empty_ _like you! I'm filled with things…my family! My job!_ _My guilt!_ _Always…'_ He shook his head, dismissing the painful memories. "This is not the Midii I left. No, she's no longer that innocent child I left behind."

He knelt next to the bed and ran his shaking fingers through the golden curls that spread out on the pillow like a fan. "Oh Midii," he whispered desperately. "How could you? I thought that you had suffered enough from war."

Trowa stood and grabbed a nearby chair, pulling it next to her bedside. He sat backwards, so he could still see her but was able to rest his arms on the back of the chair. It had been nearly eight, nine years since he had seen her last.

She had matured. Her figure was lean and trim, the delicate curves gently outlined in the sheets. Her hair wasn't quite as long as it had been before; it was now cropped to her shoulders, and her face had lost most of it's baby fat, revealing more defined cheeks.

A moan from the bed snapped him back to reality. Midii's head lay sunken in the pillow, drenched with perspiration. Her face twisted and contorted with pain as she began to cough uncontrollably. The numerous monitors began to sing as her vitals turned for the worst. Trowa's eyes widened as Midii's heart rate, respiratory rate, and blood pressure began to plummet. As her temperature slowly ascended from a calm 99 to a deadly 104, he grabbed a nearby washcloth and began to wipe her soaked forehead. 

"Sally!" he screamed urgently. Within seconds the physician came running through the door at a full sprint.

"What the…" she began, as she glanced at the monitors. "Oh my God…" she mouthed realizing the magnitude of the situation. "Trowa, hand me that needle, stat!" 

He quickly grabbed the needle and handed it to Sally. Taking the needle, she filled it with a clear, crystal-like serine and quickly injected it into Midii's arm. Bit by bit her vitals began to return to their normal numbers. Sally glanced nervously at her patient as Trowa continued to mop the sweat from her brow. 

"What happened?" he asked shakily, looking up at her hopefully. Sally Po looked at the Gundam pilot, her eyes slightly glazed but completely terrified. Trowa reverted his gaze from hers and set them upon the now peaceful patient.

"She's going to die, isn't she?" he inquired, hoping that he didn't already know the answer. The doctor sighed heavily and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

"I honestly don't know Trowa. It's as if her body suddenly and quite violently rejected all of the medication. It seems as if she has already created antibodies for all of the drugs that I gave her. They acted as a wall around her inner organs and didn't take effect until it was almost too late. It seems as if she's been issued these meds numerous times before; so after a while her body accepts them as part of her bloodstream. When they tied to act as a medication, it didn't work, because she's already subject to the chemicals. I've just given her something I've created myself to keep her vitals at a safe and normal level. I can't say that it will be the miracle solution, but it will give her a fighting chance." Noticing his distraught appearance on a usual expressionless face, she removed her hand and headed for the door to give him time alone.

"I won't say that she'll die. But I will say that it's now going to be much more difficult to save her." Sally whispered as she left the room. Outside, the remainder of the pilots, minus Heero, waited anxiously for news on the mysterious soldier.

"Well?!" Duo demanded as Sally walked past them without a word. "Who is she and why does she mean so much to Trowa?"

"Duo, don't pry," Quatre pleaded. "That's personal information." The braided pilot glanced at the petite Arabian and scowled. 

"Don't act like you don't want to know either. We all know that Trowa had a mysterious past. Hell! We even know that his name isn't even Trowa. So why is this damn girl so important?"

"It's none of our business," Quatre said ruefully. "If Trowa wants us to know, he'll be the one to tell us."

As the two pilots began to quarrel, Wu Fei questioned the physician. Sally glared at him disappointedly. "I thought you would be one of the more sensible of the group." she joked, tossing one of her large braids over her shoulder in a taunting manner. Her eyes gleamed playfully. "But here you are, interrogating me like a criminal." 

"Come on Sally." he pleaded, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Trowa is probably the most mysterious of the entire group. He's done plenty of things that none of us have understood, but we never questioned him. And in the end, they all played out perfectly well. But when he starts to bring home enemy soldiers, let alone female enemy soldiers, one can only ask why." Sally rested her head gently on the Chinese pilots shoulder. 

"I don't know much," she whispered into his ear. "Only that somehow Trowa knows her, most likely from that dark past of his. She's definitely someone important; he's been at her side ever since the battle yesterday. He hasn't mentioned anything beyond that, but he doesn't have to. His eyes speak volumes. There's pain there, and a guilt like I've never seen him carry before…" she said, beginning to drift to sleep, worn from the day's excitement. Wu Fei led her over to the waiting room where he laid her carefully on the couch, her head resting gently in his lap.

"Whatever the connection," he said, wiping the wisps of hair from her face. "I think it's stronger than any of us, including Trowa, first imagined."

Trowa shifted slightly, changing his position in the chair so he would not become stiff. It had been a week since he had encountered Midii on the battlefield, and he had made sure not to leave her side, not once. 

His stomach growled in protest and his parched throat screamed for water. Trowa only swallowed hard and took a bite of the now stale biscuit Sally had brought him a few days before. His eyes longed for sleep and his body ached. But still he kept with is constant vigil, watching the sleeping bulk and listening intently to the monitors. He crossed his arms, lying them gently across his chest, and slowly let his eyelids drop over his bloodshot eyes. _'Just a few minutes,'_ he promised himself._ 'I'm only letting my eyes rest.'_

Two hours later a pair of strong arms shook him awake. "Come on you, wake up!" He moaned slightly, aggravated and still drowsy. 

"Mid-" he began. But as his vision slowly came into focus, the playful face of Duo obstructed his view. 

"Howdy buddy!" he greeted energetically, slapping Trowa on the back. "Hum, you don't look so great." Duo lifted Trowa's chin up, examining his face jokingly and murmuring things such as "Ahh, curious." and "Very peculiar." under his breath.

Trowa jerked his chin away angrily. "Stop that Duo." The pilot whined slightly, grabbing onto the end of his braid. 

"Aw Trowa. I was only tryin' to have a little fun ya know? You've been cramped up in this stuffy room for nearly a week and," he said picking up one of Sally's biscuits and banging it against the wall, causing a loud clanging noise, "You can't tell me that you've eaten proper food if you've only had Sally's boulders to eat." Trowa rubbed his hands over his face tiredly. 

"I'm fine Duo, don't worry about it. Honesty." Duo quirked an eyebrow skeptically. 

"Uh huh," he said through a lopsided grin. "Look, buddy. I really don't think that by nearly starving and depriving yourself of all sleep is the way to help what's-her-face," he said gnawing on one of Sally's biscuits and motioning toward the bed. After a few futile attempts, he gave up and asked "What's her name anyways?"

Trowa took a deep breath, the heavy smell of rubbing alcohol no longer intoxicating. He fought to keep his emotions stable as the words "Midii Une…" slowly left his lips. Duo nodded in acknowledgement.

"Hey look, why don't you go get some decent food and rest? I think I can handle watching sleeping beauty for a couple of hours. And besides," he said humorously, rubbing the back of his neck. "After the last prank I pulled on Hilde, I don't think that she's too thrilled with me at the moment." Trowa shook his head.

"I want to be here, in case something happens or she wakes up." Duo blew air through his lips, causing a sputtering noise.

"Don't you get it?" he said. "If you don't take care of yourself, you'll end up on a bed next to her and it won't matter who wakes up first. Understand?! If anything bad happens, I'll be sure to call Sally. And if she wakes up I'll call you and stay hidden, that way you can even be the first person she sees." Trowa began to protest, but Duo held up his fists in an intimidating manner. "I swear Trowa Barton, if you don't get your ass down to that cafeteria, I'll send you to the hospital bed myself!"

Trowa smirked and rose reluctantly. Duo's face quickly returned to its lighthearted expression. "Thanks Duo." he mumbled as he left the room, his legs grateful for the chance to finally stretch. Duo only shooed him away. 

"Now you take care!" he demanded. "I don't want to see you back here for at least another eight hours understand?" Trowa nodded as he walked down the long corridor towards the cafeteria. Duo waved mockingly from the doorway and Trowa could hear him shouting "Goodbye hunny! I'll miss youuu!" 

As the smell of warm food wafted towards his nose, he was thankful he had friends like Duo. _'Besides,'_ he reassured himself. _'Duo's fairly sensible. And what could happen anyway?'_

Eight hours later, stomach full and body somewhat rejuvenated, Trowa made his way back to the Med Ward. He stopped soon after he entered the room. The windows curtains flapped aimlessly in the cool night breeze and Duo lay unconscious on the floor. The instruments now no longer hummed and beeped; the room filled with a deathly silence. And the bed of Midii Une…was empty.

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A/N: Well did you like it? Then REVIEW it!!! I need to know if I should bother continuing. I already have the ending written, and _I_ know what happens, so it doesn't matter either way to me…I hope you want me to finish though!

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Next Chapter: We find out what happened to Midii Une. Why did she suddenly disappear from the Hospital Ward (leaving an unconscious Gundam Pilot in her wake) when only 8 hours earlier she was unconscious? Plus, why she was in an enemy Leo in the first place. The first scene of the 'betrayal' part will be set. 


	3. Chapter Three

Love and Betrayal:

Chapter Three

Midii whined slightly as the jet lag crept upon her. Slapping her face, she scolded herself for being so weak. The city's lights flickered below as the space shuttle slowly made it's way toward the airport. Rummaging through the files on her lap, she quickly skimmed for the new coordinates of Cerberus headquarters. Boy would they be glad to hear the information she had found for them. 

But ambivalence hung heavy around her. Quickly she shuffled the papers back into the file. They now felt like fire and she didn't want to touch them. Her thoughts began to drift. "Nanashi…" she whispered, only audible to herself. How she had longed for him over the years, to see his face again and to have those eyes locked onto hers.

Everyday she had waited, waited for news on the boy who had no name. But nothing every arose, and she feared that he had died like so many other soldiers in the war. She had almost given up hope until that day when the rebellion had been intercepted by the Gundams.

After he left her, she had taken it upon herself to learn how to control a mobile suit. Her movements were choppy and usually predictable, but she could survive, that was all that mattered. And maybe, if she were lucky, she would meet him again. Out on the battlefield, just as they had so, so long ago. 

But they had been too strong and the rebellion's small uprising had been easily crushed, and she defeated. And even as she lie dying beneath her mobile suit, his face still plagued her mind. Soon she beckoned for death, wanting nothing more then to erase the face that haunted her from her memory. She wanted to be free from his gaze, from the guilt that he had set upon her. Yet at the same time, she wanted to stare into his emerald eyes and be held in his strong arms.

As she had slowly fallen into the impending darkness, she felt arms encase her battered figure. _'Just let me die!'_ her mind screamed in anguish. A few moments later she could feel a warm liquid flowing steadily from her side. Then something tightened around her waist and the flowing was subdued.

"She needs help. Now." she had heard someone murmur. Why did they care? Why did she matter? Was she not just another casualty of war? 

'Don't you understand? God, why can't you understand?! I want to die! Leave me alone!' she wanted to scream, but her scorched throat could manage no more then a simple groan.

But hours later, when she had finally awoken and pain still riddled her body, she heard it. The voice she had longed to hear for so many years. Oh how she had wanted to hear him speak to her again, to hear that calm voice that never showed any hint of emotion. It drove her wild how she could love him so much, yet thrive on nothing but the memory of his voice and intent gaze. She wanted to cry out to him, to apologize for all that had happened and to tell him that she loved him. But all those things died upon her lips, and all that had escaped was his name. _"Nan…ashi…"_

Snapping herself out of her daydream, she shook herself wildly. "Why is he always the one to save me?!" she questioned herself angrily. "I'm no use to anyone alive…" Subconsciously she heard him reply, _"…Neither am I."_

Midii clutched her head in torment. She had nothing in this world, not even the love of Nanashi. She was empty, like he had once been. She had no family, no guilt. Even her job meant next to nothing to her. She tried to stand; perhaps a walk around the cabin would clear her head, but pain racked her side as she did. Growling with annoyance she sat back down and placed her head gently against the cool window. She inhaled deeply and held it for a few seconds before releasing. Slowly she returned to her normal, unemotional self. It had been so long that she had given up hope and buried her emotions deep within her heart. Now she was simply a soldier, a spy, a nothing, twined into a world corrupted by war and hatred. 

She smiled inwardly as she realized the cruel paradox. "My dear Nanashi…" she whispered mockingly, "Can I never remove myself from your fate? Am I condemned to always be connected to you?" Her eyelids fluttered slightly. "Is it really my fault?"

She sighed as the sleep tugged at her senses. _'No,'_ she ordered herself sternly. _'You can't fall asleep; be alert, be awake.'_ But even as the words repeated over and over in her mind, she slowly fell into a restless slumber.

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*The crash of mobile suits pierced through the night and exploded in her ears. Metal scraped against metal, sounding like that of nails on a chalkboard. Sulfur intoxicated her lungs as she tried to scream in horror. 

As she looked upwards, she witnessed an old rebel mobile suit crash to ruins as it was struck down by the Alliance. It fell at her feet, sparking and threatening to explode only a few meters in front of her. Midii's eyes glazed with terror. What was happening? What had she done?

"Midii! Grab on!" she heard someone shout desperately from behind. As she turned around a motorcycle came racing into view, driven by a small boy. As he stopped for a moment, letting her straddle the seat behind him, she noticed his eyes. A deep green, flickering between emerald and jade. They were completely emotionless, yet at the same time they cried out to all of those who saw them; they screamed out the story of a lost childhood, a lost love, and a lost soul. 

"I'm not going to thank you," she shouted, though not sure why. He had saved her; didn't he at least deserve that much?

"I wasn't expecting it." he replied, never blinking as they darted between the mobile suits. Midii grabbed a tighter hold around the boy's waist and shut her eyes, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to slide down her ashen cheeks. Burying her face in the deep folds of his jacket, she breathed in his musty scent. The smell of grease and oil from the mechanics shed, the smell of grass from the countless hours he spent lounging in the fields, staring out into space, and an unidentifiable aroma. She couldn't explain how it smelled, just that when it reached her nostrils it sent waves of warmth swimming through her body, and everything seemed right in the world. 

But suddenly she was no longer that little girl holding onto a boy for dear life. She was an 18-year-old woman, gazing across a field shattered in the wake of war. Blood stained the earth and conquered suits lay tarnished and collecting moss.

The wind howled around her, biting at her face, grabbing her hair and piercing through her jacket. "It's your fault!" it screamed. "It's all your fault!"

"No!" she cried back. "I had to save my family! I had to save my brothers, my father. They would have died without me!"

"Then where are they now?" the wind questioned, dancing around her tauntingly. The tears in which Midii had fought so valiantly to suppress now caressed her face as the haunting image of four whitewashed graves came into focus. "You betrayed your own comrades and you betrayed Nanashi. And for what? They died anyway. It was all your fault…" Midii fell to her knees. She couldn't breath, she couldn't walk, she couldn't stand. All she could do was brake down and cry.

Gradually, as it continued to torment her, the wind took shape, molding itself into the lean figure of grown boy. A large sweep of dark brown hair obstructed half of his face. His green eyes burned with rage, yet at the same time sent ice cold gazes toward the crying figure. "It's all your fault." he spoke.

Midii looked up at the figure. "Nanashi…" she whispered desperately, climbing to her feet. "Nanashi I'm so sorry!" She tried futilely to reach him, but every time she neared, the apparition would simply glide away just out of her range. 

"It was all your fault," he said, his voice neither calm nor angry. "It was all your fault, and it will be your fault again." With that, he turned back into the wind and blew away, the words 'Your fault,' still echoing in the breeze.*

Midii jerked awake as the shuttle bounced onto the runway. As it came to a gliding halt, she grabbed her file and jacket off the back of the chair. Ignoring the pain that coursed through her body, she pushed her way to the exit.

"No," she spoke aloud, though to no one in particular, "You're wrong!" And as she made her way to the taxi, she said again, "It was never my fault."

"Duo…" Sally cooed, trying to get him to regain consciousness. He sighed slightly. The room was crowded with the entire gundam squad. Trowa stood silently in the corner, lost in his own realm of thought. The disappearance of the rebel soldier had puzzled them all. And the only one who knew anything about her escape had been unconscious for the past hour. 

"Duo, wake up." Sally said, shaking him slightly. Irritated, Heero walked over to the hospital cot, grabbed the mattress and flipped it over, the pilot still lying on top. Duo fell to the floor with a thud. Sally let out a gasp of shock. "Heero!" He simply waited for the braided boy to pick himself up off the floor. 

"Get up," he ordered sternly. With labored movements, Duo rose to his knees, then to his feet. He rubbed the back of his neck gingerly. 

"Christ Heero, there are easier ways to waking someone up ya know!" Heero said nothing but stared at him sternly.

"What the hell happened?" Wu Fei demanded. Duo looked around the room dumbly, then began to massage his jaw.

"She hit me." The group could barely suppress their laughs. Even Heero began to snicker. Wu Fei shook his head reproachfully.

"Knocked out by a woman…" he spoke incredulously.

"Dude, she's no ordinary girl!" Duo shouted, trying desperately to defend himself. "She had one mean left hook." Then, leaning around Wu Fei, he glanced at Trowa in the corner, still lost in thought. "You sure know how to pick 'em Trowa." Trowa made no reply, only turned and left the room.

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"Heero Yuy: _Pilot of Gundam Zero One. Easily most serious of the group. Looked at as the Perfect Soldier for his total lack of emotion during battle. History unknown. Currently involved with peace delegate Relena Peacecraft Dorlian._

Duo Maxwell: Pilot of Gundam Zero Two- Deathscythe Hell. Cocky, but nicknamed the Great Shingami. Owner of Maxwell Scrap Yard. Currently involved with Hilde Stienbeck.

Trowa Barton: Pilot of Gundam Zero Three- Heavyarms. Real name unknown. Past unknown. Works at circus with adoptive sister Catherine Bloom. Currently uninvolved.

Quatre Raberba Winner: Pilot of Gundam Zero Four- Sandrock. Heir to Winner Industries. Protected by the Maquanack Core. Youngest and only male of family of 28. Parents' deceased. Currently involved with Dorothy Catalonia, granddaughter of Duke Dermail.

Chang Wu-Fei: Pilot of Gundam Zero Five- Altron. Experienced in the Martial Arts. Known to have a hot temper and rush into situations. Very apprehensive about justice. Colony destroyed during the war of A.C. 195. Currently involved with Sally Po, group physician.

Base currently located on colony XJ289311 in the celestial district. Current number of troops near 830,000 and steadily increasing. Base moved every six months. Next scheduled move in 5 weeks." 

"This is very interesting material Miss Une," Colonel Humaki stated, leafing through the papers neatly assembled in the folder. He was a lean man, only in his early twenties or so. His hair was a deep brown, almost to the point where it was black. "But if you don't mind, indulge me. How did you come across such an abundance of information and yet still have such a successful escape?" He had deep brown, almond shaped eyes that were capable of sending chills down a victims spine with a mere glance. He had been notorious during the Eve Wars for his violent interrogations and brutal battle methods. Known for sacrificing his own men when necessary, it hadn't taken him long to gain respect among the ranks of soldiers and become military commander. However there was always one that condescended him willingly and he hated her fully.

Midii Une sat in front of the rebel leader, twirling strands of her blonde hair around her fore finger. The blinds were drawn, allowing only a few rays of sunlight to filter into the room. But the light danced on her golden highlights and accented her face beautifully. She grinned deviously.

"It was quite simple really," she responded, tossing the strand over her shoulder and beginning to twirl another. "And if you were to read my report you would understand it quite clearly and easily." He glared at her suspiciously. He had always hated her snide remarks and idiosyncrasy. He would have liked to dispose of her long ago, if she hadn't been the best damn spy on their team. She was invaluable, and for that he tolerated her rude character. Reviewing back through the papers, he placed his middle finger on the text.

"It says that while you were battling you went to attack Gundam Heavyarms but were shot down. Is that correct?" Her eyes gleamed maliciously and she nodded for him to continue. Humaki gritted his teeth and continued.

"Then after the battle you were supposedly rescued by the same pilot in which had just attacked you. He brought you back to their headquarters where you were treated and healed." He stopped reading and gazed at her from across the mahogany desktop. "I understand your report clearly enough, but what I am still skeptical about is how in fact you obtained this information when you were unconscious during recovery." Midii tossed the strand of hair aside. She concealed her annoyance as she gazed intently at the colonel. 

"You would be amazed at how much information you can easily obtain when someone believes you to be unconscious." But she had left something out. '_You're protecting him again.'_ her mind warned her. _'You remember last time you tried to defend him. Don't think that things will end as smoothly as last time. If you plan to betray him, do it now. Why not? It does not matter anymore…nothing matters anymore…' _Midii swallowed hard and tired to retain her cool composer. _'Oh but it does,' _she answered herself, dipping back into the foolhardy girl she had been so long ago. '_It matters very much.'_

Little by little realization crept across Humaki's face and slowly the corners of his lips turned upwards. Then a growl began to grow in the back of his throat before exploding into a full-fledged laugh. Soon tears formed in the corners of his eyes. "The imbeciles!" he shouted joyously. "The old playing possum trick! They have no conception that they have just been swindled do they?"

"You old fool," Midii growled. "Of course they have some clue. One of the pilots had kept a daily vigil. I'm sure that by now they've noticed that I'm missing." Humaki wiped away his remaining tears. 

"Nothing we can't fix." he said in a giddy tone. Quickly he walked over to the small vid phone in the corner. After typing a few seconds, a young voice came over the intercom. "Hello?" Humaki's back was turned to Midii, so she was unable to see the man in whom the colonel was talking with. 

"Sir," Humaki whispered in a hurried tone. "I have a proposal. Agent Une has recently returned from her mission and in the process gained invaluable amounts of information. I suggest that we send her back in as a spy to gain more data. Possibly she could gain access to their records and report back any strategies in which they may be planning. They seemed willing enough to take her in the first time. I simply don't know how to go about it." There was a brief pause before the man answered.

"Simple. Play pretend." Curiosity spread over the Humaki's face, but soon was replaced with complete understanding.

"Understood sir. Humaki out." When he turned back to Midii, his eyes gleamed. Midii stood from her chair. Her heart pounded madly, but she concealed it behind her seemingly permanent mask of deception.

"Come Miss Une. I think it time we revisited your newly acquainted friends." Humaki grabbed her arm roughly and dragged her out of the room forcefully. This would be fun, he thought suddenly as he made arrangements for the next flight to colony XJ289311.

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A/N: Sorry if I rushed a bit, but I wanted to get the chapter done so I could get onto the good stuff. 

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Next Time of L.A.B.: The Gundam Pilots start their search for Midii. They find her but not in the best condition. Under Trowa's request she is once again admitted back into the Gundam Headquarters. And someone's stalking Midii; are they friend or foe? Possible battle scene. 

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	4. Chapter Four

Love and Betrayal

Chapter Four:

No matter how violently he tried to convince himself, Midii Une had once again disappeared leaving no trace of her even existence, minus the newly awakened memories drifting in Trowa's tired mind. Just a few hours before she had been there, lying peacefully in front of him as he fell in love with her all over again. The memories stung, like a thousand hot knives tearing at his flesh, worse then if Cathy had let one of her fatal knives slip during an act. Trying to save face, he followed the other pilots as they scanned the colonies streets.

But he couldn't concentrate. His mind seemed scattered, like leaves in the autumn breeze. Things had been going so well, he thought tiredly to himself. Why was it that she suddenly mattered so much to him?

But deep down in his heart he already knew the answer to his question. He had never forgotten. There had never been a day where her face hadn't lingered across his mind. Had he done the right thing? He had always second-guessed his judgment of that day; the day he had left Midii Une alone on the battlefield. Was it his fault? She had been so scared with a gun barrel shoved in her face. And she had already suffered so much…

His comrades' hushed voices slowly brought him out of his musings. Only snippets of their conversation filtered their way to him, even with his acute sense of hearing. Phrases such as "Rediculous", "Why bother?", and "A waste of time and resources", made their way to his ears. He solemnly wished that he could agree with his comrades, but something inside of him urged him onward. He needed to find Midii, for one reason or another. He didn't care exactly how they went about it, but she needed to be found. Now. He stared at them intently from behind his mask of hair. A faint crackle of Heero's radio link back to headquarters caused a temporary lull in their conversation.

"Yuy, have you any sign of the Une girl?" Wu Fei's voice rang, low and demanding. He made no attempt to hide his dissatisfaction. Midii Une had caused quite an uproar at Preventer headquarters; he had the right to be annoyed. Everyone had some right in the matter concerning her mysterious disappearance. It wasn't everyday that someone being held at Preventer merely escaped out of the window.

"None yet," Heero replied, still glancing about the bustle of the colony. He didn't think he could find anyone in this throng, let alone someone who obviously didn't want to be found. "We'll report back as soon as we do." 

Trowa heard something suspiciously like "damn onna…" make it's was through the receiver before Heero shoved it quickly back into the folds of his Preventers jacket. 

Trowa half-heartedly agreed with Wu Fei's irritated tone. He didn't understand why Midii would want or have to cause so much confusion.

Doubts slowly crept back into his mind. What was she doing in that mobile suit, he wondered. Why, after all these years had she finally appeared in his life again? His mind streamed with questions to which he had no answers for. Looking up at the colonies artificial sun, he squinted, his mind still asking the unknown-- "Where are you Midii?"

Quatre stopped, taking a deep breath and slowly running his fingers though his platinum bangs. They were getting nowhere fast. He wanted to find this girl as much as the rest of them, but still…

"Look," he said finally, placing his hands on his hips. "We're getting ourselves absolutely nowhere. I suggest we split up. We can cover twice the distance in half the amount of time. Besides," he spoke coolly, trying to figure the correct way to string his words. "I don't think she or anyone else would be pleased to find a drove of Preventers headed in their direction. She's much less likely to startle, let alone run if we're in smaller groups."

Trowa sighed; finally the voice of reason among them all. He had desperately wanted to search for Midii alone, feeling he could cover more ground, but had laid quiet as he became lost in his own thoughts. "Midii…" he repeated to himself, half expecting to see her appear before him at the mere mention of her name.

"Very well," Heero agreed, handing the radio over to Quatre. "Inform Wu Fei on our actions. If anything happens or you find the girl, call me on my cell." he said, patting the almost undistinguishable lump in his pocket. "Trowa and I will cover the Northern and Eastern districts. Quatre, you and Duo cover the Southern and Western."

"Rodger!" Duo said, saluting mockingly as he left. Heero turned toward Trowa, his face saying nothing but eyes burning. He didn't even have to speak before Trowa answered his unasked question.

"I don't know why Heero," he said, zipping the jacket up around his shoulders as the wind whipped around his torso. The weather stations on the colony had only recently switched colony XJ289311 to the winter season, but it felt to Trowa as if he had suddenly been placed into a frozen tundra. He seemed so cold inside, like a hole had reopened inside of him, leaving him insecure and alone, a feeling he hadn't kept concealed inside of him since he had seen Midii last. For some reason, she seemed to have some bizarre effect on him that on one else had managed to accomplish. Not even his beloved sister Cathy. He could feel an ember trying desperately to burn inside of him and melt the icy caverns away, but with each new gust the wind brought, it was promptly extinguished. He shuddered, a chill running down his spine. "I can't even answer my own questions right now."

Heero stalked silently behind him, noticing his every move, from the tension of his muscles to the shiver that darted along his back. It was so unlike him, he thought watchfully to himself. Trowa had made himself known for keeping his head about him in a crisis; a deadly weapon that would strike without a second thought. But now, with each hesitant step the Silencer seemed to retreat behind his tearless mask and into his own world, way from the dilemma at hand. During the war, Heero would have easily entrusted him with his life. But now, now he wasn't too sure.

A small raven-haired girl brushed her way past the crowded streets of the colony. "Damn this weather," she thought coldly to herself, tucking her scarf gently around her ears.

She stopped a moment, shifting the weight in her arms. In one hand she carried a small musical case, her tarnished flute lying gently inside. While in the other, an old and tattered music book, along with another book entitled '_In the Blink of an Eye--A Tacticians Guide to the Strategies of Survival.'_ A pair of worn binoculars hung at her neck, swaying as she attempted to dodge the oncoming traffic. 

A businessman, obviously in a dire rush, nearly collided with the petite four foot seven inch girl.

"Bastard!" she called after him as he disappeared into the crowd. "Can't you see that I'm walking here?!" So fully consumed with rage, she didn't see where she was going. Though her concentration had stopped momentarily, her feet had continued walking, plowing her straight into two men in Preventer uniforms. 

The contents of her arms sprawled all over the sidewalk. "Hey you…" she began rudely before turning around and meeting the hollow green and hardened cobalt eyes in front of her. She pressed her lips together, causing a thin straight line to form across her young face. Innocence gleamed in her eyes as she stood and feverishly tried to collect her belongings. 

"Sorry sirs," she mumbled, picking up her music book and the few pages that had fallen out of its cover. "I wasn't looking where I was going…"

Heero bent down, carefully helping the girl collect her belongings. He picked up her book, the binding faded, showing constant use. Eyeing the title and then the binoculars around her neck he said, half disdainfully, half seriously "Interesting choice of reading, Miss…" 

"Alexia," she snapped indignantly, snatching the book from his grasp. She stared at him intently, her own jade eyes blazing. Standing, she brushed the front of her trench coat and a lock of hair away from her flushed face. Her crass voice snapping him into reality, Trowa gazed at the girl.

"But don't you think that you're a bit young to be reading such a book?" Heero asked, his eyes never wavering from hers. The young girl swelled like an infuriated cock. She hated being called young. Young meant defenseless, defenseless meant weak, and weak meant destruction. It was a deadly cycle she had learned all too well.

"I am _not_ too young," she retorted heatedly, trying to gain control of her trembling vocals. Who was this man, she though angrily, who decided things for her? "Besides, I'll be turning eleven in a couple of weeks. I'll practically be a grown woman by that time." Trowa could barely suppress a grin that slid over his distraught face. 

But suddenly scraps of his past flashed across his mind. Two ten-year-old children racing across a desolate battleground… A girl with long flowing blonde hair clutching her game necklace tightly… A nameless boy, already tarnished and corrupted with the horrors of war… Two shots, ringing endlessly through a hollow night, whispering the names of a couple that would never be… The trouble ten-year-olds could cause. Almost instantly his face returned to its expressionless composure. 

A rather audible 'humph' was heard as she brushed past them, her nose upturned in the air. She only made it a few steps before shouting "MY FLUTE!" 

Trowa scanned around the sidewalk for the small black case. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted one of the clasps glinting in the sunlight. He bent over and picked it up, handing it gently to the near-hysterics child.

Her eyes widened as she saw the small case held out to her. She grabbed it and hugged it tightly to her chest, before throwing her arms around the rescuers waist. "Oh thank you!" she cried, her mood flipped drastically. 

Unsure of what to do, he patted the clinging child on the head and said, "Don't worry about it." Alexia pulled away. His voice seemed so distant, she thought sadly to herself. Distant, as if his body were here and mind floating off somewhere else. And so sad… She hugged her flute gaily to her chest once more. 

Somewhere in the distance, cathedral bells struck five. Horror crossed the girls face as the ringing died in her ears. Suddenly, she flew past the Preventer, waving behind her. "Thank you again Mister!" she shouted as she rushed down the street.

And as Trowa gazed absently goodbye, he missed another girl being shoved forcefully into an alleyway, an aura of guilt hanging about her head of disheveled blonde locks.

Midii Une stared at her captor defiantly. Damn Humaki and his games, she thought as they headed down an alleyway. She struggled slightly in his grip, only to have her arm twisted even more painfully up her back.

"Move again," he cautioned, his breath hot upon her neck. "And your arm will snap." He tightened his grip, unaware of the large bruise, which had already appeared so long ago. He had looked forward to having her in this position for so long, he was going to savor every waking moment of it, despite the unhappy fact that he couldn't kill her. Not just yet anyway. 

He tightened his hold on both her and his gun as he spotted the two Preventers nearby. They couldn't see his face, he reminded himself jadedly. He had to time everything perfectly, or everything would be in vain. He leaned forward, caressing her face's outline with the barrel of his gun. It was such a shame, he suddenly thought. All that beauty wasted. If only…if only she hadn't been so damn stubborn and irksome, then maybe. He softly nuzzled his face in her nest of hair and was assaulted with the scent of Freesia. She always smelled of flowers he thought wistfully to himself, breathing deep. Whether it was the white blossoming South African plant, lavender, lilac, rose or some other exotic scent, it always seemed to add to both her mystery and appearing innocence.

As they reached the back corner of the alleyway, he thrust her to the ground. Her side erupted with pain as she staggered to stand. He crouched beside her and whispered into her ear "You had better play this game right," he warned. "There are no second chances. You either live or die. You decide." She looked up at him, her gaze full of spite and intense hatred. She breathed heavily then suddenly spit into his face. 

"I know my job," she barked. "Just make sure you know yours." Humaki grabbed her arm above her elbow, dragging her up. 

When she stood standing in front of him, he pulled his hand back and said "Now it's your turn bitch," before he brought his open palm forward to collide with her face's tender flesh.

Heero sneered as the young girl dashed toward the belfry only a few blocks away. He hated children and was glad that Relena thought she was too busy trying to uphold peace to even consider the matter. Deep down Heero knew why he hated them; it was partly because he was deprived a proper childhood himself, yet the true reason was more personal. He was still lost and had never quite yet found his way home. "Come on Trowa," he said finally, turning away in disgust. "We won't find Midii by wasting our time with little brats like that one."

Trowa nodded in compliance, turning to follow. They began walking down the street, but were stopped suddenly by a loud slapping noise, followed by a muffled thud. Instantly, the two pilot's heads snapped in the direction of the sickening sound. Heero's hand flew to the hidden holster at his side, gently grabbing his pistol.

Trowa took a deep breath, clearing his mind for the moment of all thoughts of Midii. This was more important right now, he thought. Midii would just have to wait. Official Preventer duty came first and he wasn't about to forsake that obligation.

As the two pilots edged their way into the alley, they could hear angry voices arise from the shadows. There were two, though they could obviously tell that only one of them was in control. It teetered between a harsh whisper and a suppressed shout.

"You two-timing bitch!" they heard someone bellow. "How dare you?! I took you up off the street and this is how you repay me?!"

"But Maverick please!" a female voice responded through strangled sobs. 

Trowa nearly choked as the voice reached his ears. It was chock full of innocence, pleading the man to reconsider. "Wait…Maverick wait!" It was just like last time, he thought abruptly to himself. Is this what she would have sounded like to him, he wondered, if his senses hadn't been stifled by rage? _Wait…Nanashi wait!_ He could hear her voice as clear as day, as if she were begging him to stay instead of this mysterious Maverick. A more sickening 'snap' of bones rose over her pleading cries and the sound of labored panting echoed in the darkness. Trowa gently tugged at his comrade's jacket.

"Get up wench."

Heero looked at him suspiciously, reading the message encoded in his hardened glare. He nodded in acknowledgement, cocking his gun silently. They subconsciously counted to three before springing into the darkness ahead.

Two figures stood, veiled in the brick wall's massive shadow. Or one rather; the other lay crouched, cradling her seemingly broken arm. 

"You're under arrest," Heero snarled, the barrel of his gun pointed directly at the man's head. The man turned, his face still cloaked with darkness. Quickly he grabbed the whimpering girl from the street, pulled her in front of him, drawing his own gun.

Tears of sincere pain streaked her ghostly white skin as the he wrenched her broken arm behind her back once more. She had never been able ebb the flow of her tears. She had gained the name 'Weeping Wench' for it too, because she could cry, keeping the expression on her face blank, even as she betrayed those who were at one point her comrades. She had grown so accustomed to the small drops as they ran down her skin, that they were now more out of habit then sorrow.

But now it was different. He had gone too far. Humaki's own hatred for her had driven him to the point where he would jeopardize the mission just to see her cringe in true anguish. Pain ricocheted through her body as she began to tremble. For a moment the barrier around her crumbled. She didn't want this anymore. She didn't want this at all… Through her blurred vision she could see Nanashi, terrified at the sight before him.

"Y-You…" she croaked, through her tears. She was met with another agonizing jolt of pain as Humaki twisted her arm, silencing her.

"Let her go." Heero demanded, never blinking. Though he couldn't see the whole face, he saw the captor's teeth as his lips spread in a malicious grin.

"You want her?" he taunted, moving slightly to the left of the alley. He sensed the rigidity in the pilot's hand. "Then come and get her." With that, he shoved Midii toward the pilot, spinning her around to face him as he did. With one fluid movement, he pulled the trigger and disappeared though a doorway in the wall. 

Midii fingered the bullet hole in her chest. He had really gone through with it hadn't he? Everything seemed so vague to her as her white blouse became drenched in a crimson hue. She could see someone rushing toward her. Was it Nanashi? She wondered dreamily, remembering fondly the small, silent boy who always used to come to her rescue. And as she fell into his arms, Midii Une did the only thing she could think of. She fainted.

Atop the cathedral's roof, a young girl sat quietly, gazing across the streets below her. She let her binoculars hang freely around her neck as a sly smirk crept along her youthful features. A sudden gust of wind blew strands of raven hair from its hold in her scarf.

"Well Midii," she crooned as her fingers slid admiringly over the flute in her lap. "It's been such a very long time. But as I see, you haven't lost your touch." She picked up her binoculars once more, spying the two Preventers hastily addressing her numerous wounds. She chuckled softly. She had only been with them for less then five minutes, and already she had them eating out of the palm of her hand. "No, not at all." 

She whistled tunelessly as one of the men stroked her hair affectionately. Setting down the binoculars yet again, she muttered to herself "I should very much enjoy meeting you again Miss Une." before climbing down the steps of the belfry to her home below.

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A/N: Sorry people, no battle scene this time. I didn't want to rush this chapter. I had so much fun writing it. And due to comments I have received, yes, I understand that if Trowa and Midii are about 18, 19 years old, then it would be after the Eve Wars and their gundams would have been destroyed. I'm writing this as if they hadn't destroyed their gundams. It will be crucial later on in the story, especially on Heero and Midii's part. Oops…shouldn't have told you that. ^-^' Don't forget to review!

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Next Time on L.A.B: Midii is taken back to Gundam HQ, but not without heavy suspicions. Interrogations ensue….and what about the mysterious little Alexia?


	5. Chapter Five

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Disclaimer: "Haven't we danced this waltz before?" I don't own Gundam Wing and never will.

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A/N: Sorry for the delay everyone. I hope you enjoy the next chapter (it took me long enough to finish didn't it?)!

Love and Betrayal 

Chapter Five:

Duo scratched his head skeptically as he gazed at the delicate figure of Midii Une lying sprawled across the hospital bed. "Haven't we danced this waltz before?" he asked, taking a deep intake of breath and putting his hands on his hips. The room was crowded with all five of the pilots and Sally Po. Each of them was anxious to hear why little miss trouble had decided to up and run. Sally looked around at the group, irritated.

"You can't all be in here at once," she demanded, wiping her sweating palms on her lab coat. Sally had a thing for small cramped spaces…she couldn't stand them, or at least not when she could get out of them. "Duo, why don't and the others wait outside? I think Heero is quite capable of managing the interrogations on his own, don't you think?" she said, trying desperately to remain calm.

"B-B-But…" Duo protested, his bottom lip quivering for effect. Sally looked at him sternly with a 'don't-mess-with-me-right-now' look gleaming viciously in her eyes. Wu Fei and Quatre quickly retreated through the open doorway, not wanting to infuriate the physician. Sally was not one to play games with, especially not when she had home team advantage. 

"You sound like a motor boat Maxwell," Sally stated, her eyes still intently fixed on him. 

"But she hit me!" Duo finally spat, his braid swinging gently.

"I understand that. But I don't frankly care," she stated, taking a step threateningly toward him, fists clenched. "This is my hospital room and my patient and what I say goes. Now get the hell out of this room!" Reluctantly he turned and sulked out of the doorway. As soon as the door clicked into it's frame, Sally turned to the two remaining pilots.

"Alright," she began as she started to once again clean the bullet hole that had pierced so precisely into Midii's tender flesh. They had long ago removed the silver bullet from her chest, and it now lie floating in a jar of rubbing alcohol next to the bed. "Tell me again what happened." 

"It's just like we said before," Heero grumbled from his usual corner. 

"Humor me," Sally said, brushing the hair away tenderly from the younger girls pain-contorted face. She had always had a soft spot for those less fortunate than herself. Heero sighed deeply.

"We were out searching for her and decided to split up. While Trowa and I were covering the Northern district, we heard Miss Une from an alleyway. She was obviously having quite a disagreement from the sounds and looks of it. I suppose it was nothing more then a jealous lover."

Trowa winced. He hadn't thought that Midii might have been involved with anyone. He had always hoped, deep down, that after they went their separate ways that she had sealed herself off from anyone else, just like he had. A protective barrier that only one another could penetrate. 

Of course she would have found someone else to look out for her! he scolded himself as he stared longingly at the figure beneath the thin hospital sheets. _She was so alone…she needed someone, she needed you…but you weren't there. _Trowa's nails tore into his palms as he clenched his fist tightly. He had wanted to stay with her so much, but after what she had done, he just couldn't… But she had to have changed since then. Maybe now they could be together like he had always dreamed in all those sleepless nights during the war. That is, if she could ever forgive him for leaving her in the first place. All he needed was her forgiveness…

"I'm sorry…" he mouthed under his breath. Sally had just finished checking all of her wounds and was now looking up hopefully at the two of them. 

"Well now," she said, dusting her hands energetically. "Trowa, I think you had better leave now; we don't want Miss Une frightened by a crowded room of people when she wakes up do we?" Trowa shook his head silently, resisting the urge to refuse and stay planted where he was. But he knew that if Midii saw him when she first awoke, nothing would be accomplished.

He stood wordlessly, removing his jacket from the back of the chair and resting his hand on the doorknob. He hesitated for a minute, ambiguity coursing through his veins. Finally, he slipped through the doorway, just as quietly as if he had never left at all.

Through the doorway he listened as Sally began making her rounds, turning off machines and checking various gadgets situated throughout the undersized room. "Alright," she spoke to Heero as she herself began to leave, I'll leave you to see why Miss Une was out gallivanting in the very beginning."

Alexia came down the stairs of the belfry sulking. She was not looking forward to today's chores. Her bottom was still sore from yesterday's beating from coming home late. She hugged her flute closer to her chest. She was glad her mother hadn't found out about her run in with the Preventers, or that would have been another ten smart smacks. She massaged her eyes, rubbing out the sleep and small grains of sand hiding in the corner.

As she reached the bottom of the steps she could hear the bacon sizzling in a pan on the stove. Her stomach tightened with hunger, as it hadn't had any dinner the night before.

Cautiously she inched her way down the steps, praying that the wooden boards wouldn't creak on her way down. When she reached the kitchen, she looked at her mother hopefully.

Her slender figure was hunched over the table, carefully studying the day's work. As she shuffled through the stacks of assorted sheets of music, applications and papers, wisps of black hair fell quietly about her face. Hearing her daughter shuffling softly in front of her, she peeked at her from beneath her dark lashes. "Good morning," she crooned softly, brushing the hair away from her sparkling cerulean eyes. "I hope you slept well."

Alexia nodded stiffly, taking a seat at the small oak table. Her mother stood and silently walked over toward the stove. Alexia's mouth watered as her mother piled a plate full of bacon, eggs and toast. Her eyes widened as her mother neared the table and stopped just out of reach. Tauntingly she held up a piece of bacon and popped it into her mouth. 

Alexia moaned with hunger. She reached out for the plate of food but didn't dare leave her seat for fear that her mother would take it away. She knew this game well, and if she played correctly, she would be having breakfast in a few minutes. 

"Now…" her mother began waving the plate in front of her daughter. "Is there something you want to tell me?" Alexia's hands clasped the edges of the chair tightly. _So then she did know…_

"I ran into two Preventers yesterday," she squeaked quietly, reverting her gaze from her mother's face. "When I was trying to come home…"

"And?" her mother prodded, picking out another piece of bacon. Alexia looked at her hesitantly.

"And I almost lost my flute as well, but the tall one with green eyes found it for me." Her mother nodded, setting the plate in front of her daughter. Alexia plunged into the food hungrily, not even bothering to use the utensils beside her plate. Her mother smiled contently. 

"Lexi dear, you know we can't keep secrets from one another." Alexia nodded guiltily. She wiped the eggs from the side of her mouth. Pulling a chair up next to her daughter, she hugged her close. "All we have is each other. But with our line of business I can't afford to worry about you all of the time. We'd be dead within an hour."

Alexia snuggled closer to her mother, the soft scent of the winter snow clinging to her clothing.

"Yes ma'am," she answered lazily. Her mother shook her slightly.

"It's time to go to work," her mother cooed softly, plucking her daughter from her lap and rushing to clear the table of its unorganized clutter.

Alexia gazed at her mother, her fluid and graceful movements as she cleaned up the dainty kitchen.

Reluctantly Alexia pulled her massive overcoat around her shoulders and wrapped her scarf around her neck. Slinging a pair of battered binoculars over her scarf, she grabbed her flute and headed for the doorway. As she left, she felt a gentle hand rest upon her delicate shoulder.

Her mother turned the small girl around, knelt and engulfed her daughter in a loving embrace.

"Remember," she whispered quietly into her ear. "Be careful. It's a dangerous world out there, full of conniving backstabbers and unsought threats." All we have left is each other. Trust no one."

And with that, she shoved her daughter out the door, and into the harsh reality of oncoming winter.

Heero Yuy massaged his forehead with the heal of his hand. Though the room was comfortably situated at 32° C, small beads of perspiration clung to the underneath of his unruly brown hair.

Midii Une slouched forward, twitching a strand of hair frivolously around her index finger. Her eyes glistened with hints of defiance and shone with pure contempt.

"Miss Une _please_…" Heero stressed, attempting to control the anxious and growing urge to strangle the young woman. "Would you just tell us why you left the medical compound in the first place?" 

Her eyes scanned his figure quickly. He was still rigid and unmoving, eyes like shards of ice. And yet, over the past hour, his fingertips had become considerably whiter. Not to mention that his voice, though still monotonous to the untrained ear, seemed tinged with unfamiliar impatience.

Midii slid from her perch on the bed, and arched her back as she stretched her arms above her head. Yet suddenly a pain shot through her side. She grimaced slightly and clutched the bed for support. Heero gazed at her, his eyes sneering smugly.

She took a deep and rattled breath, propped herself again on top of the cotton sheets and continued to twist a new strand of hair around her finger. "As I've told you countless times before Mr. Yuy, I needed to get away." 

Heero nearly threw his hands up into the air in defeat. Her stubborn and insolent attitude pushed him close to the brink of insanity. He had yet to have her string ten different words together, minus the one phrase she had been so persistent in repeating for the past hour. Though his physical appearance remained unchanged, his insides were a whirlwind of mass chaos.

"So you've said before ," he said, beginning the deadly cycle once again. "And you have yet to tell me what it was exactly in which you had felt you had to get away from." He rubbed his temples. "From what it looks like from my perspective is that you were in fact not running away from something, But in actuality you were running _to_ someone…"

Midii's head snapped to the side indignantly and tendrils of her hair fell like a curtain around her face. "You have no idea what I'm running from…" she muttered faintly.

But Heero caught the muffled words along with the taint of guilt they carried. He sighed inwardly, closed his eyes for a moment and left the room silently, leaving the riotous girl to her own devices.

Heero clicked to door shut behind him, leaning against the heavy metal doorway. He snatched the coffee Duo held in his hands greedily. His eyes burned. He was never in the mood for his patience to be toyed with, and today was no exception.

"She proving to be too much of a challenge for ya, ol' buddy?" Duo crooned cheerfully, filling himself another mug of the chocolaty brown liquid. "Or are you simply losing your touch?" Heero's gaze was like daggers, and Duo quickly sulked away, nosily sipping his coffee.

"I just can't get anything out of her," Heero grumbled, slamming the now empty cup on the marbled ledge. "It's as if she's been programmed to repeat the same thing over and over." He folded his arms across his chest and inhaled deeply. "But I think I struck a nerve."

Duo perked up from his seat in the corner, desperately resisting the urge to crack a joke. His eyes twinkled mischievously, and a slight smirk inched its way across his features. 

"When I mentioned the fact that she seemed to be running away from something…" Heero let the subject hang for a minute, attempting to find the correct words to describe the situation.

"But what would she have to run away from?" Quatre piped quietly, his hands clasped together and gaze directed toward the linoleum-tiled floor. Heero pried an eye open, gazing at Trowa from beneath a hooded expression. 

"Care to answer Trowa?" 

Immediately, five sets of eyes rested on the silent figure lurking in the corner. Trowa's stomach lurched, his voice dying in his throat. He watched them from beneath the obscured view of his bangs. His jaw line tightened as he lifted his head to face Heero directly.

"No."

The room shuffled slightly, the tension thick enough to cut with Deathscythe's blade. Gazes of uncertainty became fixed on the Heavyarms pilot.

But Heero's eyes gleamed with a shade of amusement, his usual sneer upturned into a slight smirk. Trowa stood and gaited toward the doorway. Heero moved away from the door, brushing past the other pilots shoulder. "I don't know what your connection is with her," he whispered inaudibly so only the two of them could hear. "But you can't hide it forever. You should know from experience that things kept hidden can only lead to disaster." Trowa's head twitched slightly, a faint nod, and entered the small room.

The room was dim, the blinds drawn and the only light emitted coming from a small florescent lamp hanging from the ceiling. Midii Une sat perched on the corner of the small hospital cot, fiddling with the bandages around her arm. As she heard the door click into it's frame, she smiled inwardly to herself. Heero Yuy may have gotten an un-programmed answer out of her earlier, but she was poised and ready for round two. She had long since perfected this game, and it wasn't likely she would be the one to first crack.

"Back so soon Mr. Yuy?" she hummed, making every attempt to twine her voice with mockery. "You can interrogate me as much and as long as you wish, but as I've told you before-"

"Midii…" Trowa whispered quietly, her name hanging on his lips. The fragile figure froze, her arms dropping to her side. Midii's eyes opened wide, her breath becoming caught and short. She spun around swiftly, ignoring the pain that rocketed through her body. Their eyes met for the first time in eight years. And though in her mind she thought she would melt at that very sight of him, Midii Une's heart, as well as her entire figure froze over with intense hatred and disgust.

"Get out…" she breathed heavily, swinging her legs around to the front of her. As he made no motion to leave, she repeated herself, voice injected with more detestation and rage then before. "I said get out." Her chest heaved.

"Midii, I can't do that." he spoke calmly, taking a chair in the corner of the room. He let his eyes run over her petite figure, taking in her curves and the lines that began to etch themselves into her distraught visage.

"And why not?" she growled angrily. "You seem to be very good at leaving." Trowa winced slightly, yet not enough for her to notice in the poorly lit room.

"Why are you here Midii?" Trowa questioned, drawing on every ounce of his energy not to run up to her and embrace her withering figure. Midii smiled arrogantly, swinging her legs over the edge of the cot and narrowing her eyes slightly.

"So I take it Mr. Yuy had to send in his reinforcements?" she derided, sniggering to herself.

"Why are you here Midii?" he repeated, forcing his voice to remain monotonous and unfeeling. His heart lurched at her bitter responses and chilling gestures. He had meant to ask for her forgiveness, but…she was doing nothing more than causing him to resurface painful memories he had long ago buried in the bowels of his character.

"You tell me Nanashi," she spat tartly, the use of his previous calling in the form of a true name. She took a deep breath, her eyes like knives. "Shouldn't I be dead by now?" Trowa dug his nails into his arm in order to control the temper that began to swell inside him. She knew exactly what buttons to push, and she wasn't making any omissions in his case. All he wanted was her forgiveness, he reminded himself avidly.

"You should be. God knows enough people have tried to kill you. Now I want to know why they wanted you dead." Midii let a wily smile grace her lips. She knew exactly how to get into his inner workings. She wanted him to suffer, suffer just as she had.

"But I'm no use to anyone alive," she snapped, her fingers entwining themselves in the sheets. Trowa's face turned white, his chest heaving slightly.

"Stop that," he growled, forgetting to mask the anger playing in his voice. "Stop attempting to make me feel guilt-ridden for the past. You made your choice and I made mine. The past doesn't matter anymore. Now are you going to cooperate or not?" Midii scowled, her plan for quick revenge instantly beginning to fall through. Her grip tightened. 

"Why would I want to cooperate with you?" she retorted, her cheeks becoming slightly flushed and heated. Her fingers left the mess of twisted sheets to caress the gold chain dangling around her neck. "That requires trust does it not? And as I recall, we've run out of that, haven't we, Nanashi?"

Trowa rose from his seat. "My name is Trowa now," he spoke, taking a threatening step toward her. "I have a name, don't you call me that any longer."

"Feh," Midii snorted, her head snapping away from the pilot. "How dare you claim that name? A name is something given to you…something given to you by family." She gazed back at the young boy in front of her, a sneer rising on her lips. "But you never had one of those did you?" she crooned heatedly, the hatred radiating from her smile.

Trowa stood rigid, his knuckles and fingertips now white. "And what about your family Midii?" he questioned, playing into her noxious game. "What ever happened to them?"

Her expression slowly melted. Her eyes lost half their spite, glazing over with the memory of gun smoke, sulfur and blood. She grasped the end of her necklace, running her fingers erratically over the gold cross hanging on the end. As Trowa witnessed her pained expression, her almost wished he could take back his acrimonious words. Almost. "That's…That's none of your business," she breathed, eyes flaming.

"Oh, but my past is seems to be your business," he retorted spitefully. He shifted weight to his other leg.

"Our pasts have always been intertwined." she groped, momentarily forgetting her mission and the entire purpose of her stay at Preventer Headquarters.

"You say that as if it were an awful thing." Midii gazed at him somewhat ruefully.

"Don't you realize the cruel twist of irony?" she mouthed breathlessly, the strain of countless examinations beginning to take it's toll on her fatigued figure. "I've dreaded you ever since that day, when in reality…" she looked down at the floor, the room beginning to spin slightly. "I've _become_ you."

Trowa gazed at her quizzically, an eyebrow expertly arched. She smiled dizzily. "Don't you understand Nanashi?" she questioned, disregarding his earlier request. "I've become the empty soldier you once prided yourself on being. I am the one who has lost everything while you…" she grasped the side of the bed for support. "You are now the one who has a reason for fighting. You are now the one who is filled with things."

Trowa's expression softened. "Midii…" he whispered quietly making his way toward the shaking figure. "That man in the alley…"

Midii's mind was spinning along with the contents of the room. Everything was quickly blurring into a mad pallet of color. She took a deep, her frame quivering. "He was my support…" she answered, remembering her long forgotten script. "He was the only one I had left to turn to. There was no point to my life anymore, yet…he forced me to keep waking up every morning. But when he got tired of me, I guess…" 

Trowa brushed his finger against her trembling lips, silencing her forced speech. He sat next to her on the cot, allowing her head to rest wearily on his broad shoulder. "And the mobile suit?" he questioned quietly. Midii let her eyelids drop slowly, her lashes and hot breath brushing lightly against the nape of his neck.

"Just another way to survive I suppose," she replied tiredly. "A war's coming Nanashi…" she whispered quietly, skewing from her assigned speech. "It was the only way I could…it was the only way I could think of to meet…"

Again, Trowa brushed a finger against her lips, silencing her. Her wrapped an arm tenderly around her slender waist , running his fingers through the silky strands of her hair. He bent down to kiss the golden locks affectionately.

"I think you should leave." Midii drawled sleepily, her voice all the same reflecting the same sternness it had earlier. Reluctantly, Trowa pulled away from her fragile body, lying her gently on the cot and covering her with the thin sheet. He gazed at the sleeping figure, wordlessly vowing to never let her go again.

Trowa exited the room quietly


	6. Chapter Six

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Disclaimer: Yadda Yadda…same scenario as ever. Don't own it, so please don't sue.

Authors Note: Sorry for the wait…as per usual life got in the way again… 

Love and Betrayal

Chapter Six:

Alexia prowled through the streets, kicking tufts of trash as she went. _These colony civilians are so messy_, she thought miserably as she sulked through an alleyway. What she wouldn't give to be back home…back on earth. Here the air seemed almost intoxicating. The purified chemicals drifting through the air made her sensitive nose tingle. She yearned for the wide, open air of Earth, opposed to the contained captivity of the colonies.

Alexia sighed, resting her back against the protruding brick terrace. Why had mother wanted to come here anyway, she wondered lazily, hiding her gloved fingers on the inside of her sleeve. They had been in such a hurry to leave. Half of her belongings still lay forgotten in their isolated cabin.

"I don't have time to explain," her mother had said as she ushered her daughter out of the door. "But something's come up…"

Alexia hugged her flute tightly. Her mother's meanings were a mystery to her. But all the same, if her voice carried the amount of urgency as it had that day, Alexia knew it was best to just follow quickly and silently.

Alexia walked a bit further into the alleyway and slumped near a wooden doorway. She looked up into the metallic sky as snow began to lightly drift down on top of her. Slightly muffled voices filtered through the worn and weathered woodwork behind her.

She groaned, pulling out a pencil and few sheets of paper. Her hand immediately began to sprawl across the sheet, the empty music staffs filling with notes as she hummed the whimsical tune to herself. A dismal day for dismal work. At least a bit of music would cheer her up, even it if was by mother's orders.

Artificial clouds draped over the sky, casting ominous shadows along the way. Alexia shivered, the cold biting through her jacket with razor sharp fangs. She paused for a moment, etching meter-long rests into her music. The mumbling behind her had ceased, and the world was now utterly still.

Alexia tried to breathe, finding the breaths labored and thin. Her arms ached and her chest throbbed. Her heart began to pound in her ears as a winter gust blew strands of hair dancing around her face. There was nothing, pray the fumes she despised tickling her nose. Then a truck drove by, blaring madly toward downtown.

Her instant of serenity had past; the world was now swathed with its constant chaos. The voices behind her rose again, now clearly audible, even through the door.

But her lingering feeling remained, a distant and undistinguishable pain. Her eyes, glassy and absent, gazed in to the bustle of the colony. No one even noticed the small girl, hidden by shadows. Alexia groped for her instrument.

She had to get home.

Now.

Duo peered at Trowa from behind the large, wingback chairs of the boardroom. His violet eyes sparkled playfully, his fingers clasped tightly around the velvet cushion, a million questions hanging dangerously upon his lips. It would be just so easy to open up his mouth and-

"Shut it Duo." Wufei snapped, eyeing the pilot from the corner of his narrowed eyes. "We all want to know the same thing as you except-"

"Except we'll let Trowa tell us when he's ready." Heero finished, his face muscles taunt. He glanced at Trowa, locking gazes with the silent pilot before he turned away. "Though I have to admit we're all quite curious."

Trowa closed his eyes, reminiscing in the memories forged but a few hours ago. He could still feel the pressure of Midii's fragile frame pressed against his own body, and the smell of her as she had slowly faded into sleep. He could sense the electrifying sensations of her heated skin beneath his fingertips and her shallow breath against his neck. All feelings he longed to hold again. And yet, in the same instant, he knew the price her company carried.

He had learned it all too well, and paid dearly for it. Still the haunting, dying screams of his former comrades echoed through his mind. The screams caused by the very woman in which lie resting in the room beyond.

Had she truly been so different back then, he wondered, the antagonizing emotions swelling within him. What had happened to the small girl that would watch him as he worked and not take offence to his silent, calm exterior? What had caused her to transform into the cold, unfeeling woman she was now?

He did not want to admit it, but his heart and mind agreed in unison.

It had been his fault. He had set that deadly transformation into play. With a single bullet he could have ended it all. Who knew how many times her devilish antics had hindered the wars and helped the enemy. Who knew how many times she had betrayed another, costing lives and worthless bloodshed.

Rage built within him, mixing and molding with the feeling of elation he's been consumed with but not a moment before.

How many more people had she betrayed…

His mind was strewn into confusion. Nothing made sense to him. He couldn't find the pieces to the puzzle, let alone set them into place. Should he be relieved that the one person who had ever understood him, the one person to notice the nostalgic expressions flirt across his face, was back in his life? Or should he allow the restrained anger caged inside him free to cause havoc as it pleased?

The room suddenly felt small as he opened his eyes to gaze at his four comrades. Each face watched him hopefully, patiently waiting his clarification. 

"I can't explain," Trowa spoke close to inaudibly. "How can I make you understand when I don't even understand it myself?" The room shuffled as each pilot stole hesitant glances from the other. Quatre's brow furrowed, his gaze falling to the floor. In a moment, his eyes fell on the Heavyarms pilot, searching for answers he knew only he could find buried beneath his best friends clam façade.

"It's her, isn't it?" he began slowly, wiping his palms on his khakis. "She's the woman you told me about before, isn't she?" His voice was calmly suppressed, revealing nothing more than the blatantly obvious.

Trowa hesitated an instant, inwardly cringing at Quatre's searching gaze, before giving a curt nod.

Quatre took a sharp intake of breath, his eyes suddenly filling with an injured look. His muscles tensed as his fingers grasped the fabric of his pants. All those stories couldn't be true…

"But Trowa," Quatre began again; his eyes now clear in stark contrast to the torrent churning inside him. "You told me she was dead." 

Heero crossed his arms, leaning back into the pleats of his chair and listening intently. 

Quatre winced, images of Trowa's story resurfacing. "You told me _you_ had killed her…"

The stillness in the room magnified as each pilot held their breath, waiting anxiously for Trowa's reply. Surely there had to be some misunderstanding…

Trowa stood and walked toward the frosted window. Crossing his arms and laying them across his chest, he sighed deeply. "I guess," he began slowly, his words carefully chosen. "I thought that I had." He turned back to the pilots, and for a rare instant his mask dropped. "She had betrayed so many people and cost so many lives. But I was the one she took pity on…the one she spared." Rage spread across his features. "You have no idea the amount of hatred I had that day. One girl…one girl had killed so many. And I should have been one of them." Trowa's mask was back as he again stared out the window.

Duo scratched his head. "But Trowa…" he began, "Shouldn't you be thankful for that? Why would you want to kill someone for saving your life?" Trowa inhaled deeply and closed his eyes.

"She was the only one I could trust Duo, the only one who understood me." Trowa rested his head against the chilled glass. "I've been a soldier since the day I was born, but when I was with Midii, I could be human too." His breath began to fog the glass. "When I lost that, when I lost her, a part of me died. I wasn't human anymore. I had always been told that by people before, but it wasn't until that day that I believed them." Trowa turned his back to the glass and slid down to the floor. He pulled his knees to his chest, burying his face. "I could have shot her Duo. I _should _have shot her. I was so angry. But I didn't." He looked up at the group and meet each of their rapt expressions.

"I died that day, and I guess I had convinced myself that she had too." 

Wufei shook his head. "I still don't understand. Why didn't you just end all the suffering then? If you were so angry, what stopped you from killing her?" Trowa focused on the wall, his gaze glossy and inert.

"I made her cry Wufei. Those woman's tears stopped me."

The streets were calm, and the only thing moving were bits of trash blown by the wind. Yet still, something wasn't right. Alexia could tell that much.

She inched toward the belfry. Pausing for a moment, she let her heartbeat steadily slow to its normal pace. The bells should have rung for the afternoon mass by now, yet the massive chimes stood ringing silent. The chill of winter bit at her skin, but she ignored the incessant bitterness.

Alexia moved closer to the cathedral's archway. Where was everyone…why weren't they here? As she approached the stone-flagged steps, her breath stopped. Towering above her stood the sanctuary that her and her mother had used as a haven for the past weeks. Father Rupert had been kind enough to allow them to reside in the church's belfry, as long as they agreed to attend the masses regularly.

At first Alexia had been reluctant. Cathedrals were not places for people of her and her mother's stature. She did not belong and felt an outcast every time she knelt respectfully in prayer. But Father Rupert's kind expression had quickly set her at ease. He would sit her on his arthritic knee and tell her that the Lord loved everyone, regardless of their past. He would say that the Lord was always watchful of his children.

Soon, Alexia welcomed the church into her life. The smell of incense was as regular as the feel of her flute beneath her fingertips. There were mornings in which she would wake early, as soon as the sun rose, just to rush into the narthex and help the aging priest to open the church. He would always chuckle at her newfound eagerness, and wrinkles would form at the corners of his eyes and stretch to the corners of his graying temples. Alexia could always make him laugh, and she prided herself on that, because at the same time she felt she was also able to preserve a piece of her innocence. She loved Father Rupert, holding him in high esteem and giving him the love of a granddaughter to a grandfather. The church was always filled with his laughter.

But now it was silent, and not with the reverent quiet of prayer either. Incense smoke no longer filtered through the saintly, stone-carved archway. The air was pungent with the scent Alexia was only too quick to remember.

She dropped her flute, dashing up the stairs as quickly as her small feet would take her. _Please…!_ Her mind cried urgently, tears threatening to fall down her face. _Please Lord, let me be imagining things! _The angels engraved into the marble held out their arms as she passed into the cathedral. But their devoted faces and gestures did nothing to calm the small girl's torrential grief.

Tapestries were shrew every which way, torn from the walls and cluttering the floor. A statue of the virgin mother stood in front of the altar, the right half of her face shattered. The baptismal fount lay broken, overflowing and staining the carpeting red.

Alexia stepped gingerly around the fallen candles and debris, making her way toward the center of the church. She let out small sniffles as she continued to try and convince her heart of what her mind already knew. She turned and faced the fount, falling to her knees as she did.

Father Rupert lay in the pool, his vestments drenched scarlet as the holy water continued to poor over his wounds. Alexia's fingers shook as she hesitantly moved to close the priest's eyes over his distant, vacant gaze. Silently she traced the sign of the cross and muttered a prayer that his spirit would reside forever in heaven.

Alexia stood, wiping the tears away with the back of her hand. They would pay. Whoever had done this would pay. She made a vow to herself that instant that she would watch that person suffer.

She gasped, spinning around and dashing toward the belfry stairs. "Mother!" she screamed.

She hurtled over the wreckage, her youthful legs straining to reach the small kitchen she had been in but a few hours ago. She halted as her mother's familiar voice reached her ears. Temporary relief spread over her. Mother was safe…Mother was alive.

She moved toward the door, positive that her mother would know who had desecrated such a sacred place. As she reached to open the doorway, she froze.

"I've told you before, I don't know where she is!" Alexia opened the door but a sliver, allowing her to see into the kitchen without being seen herself. There was an unknown man standing in front of her. His eyes shone wildly, his dark brown hair falling around his ears. His voice was harsh and demanding and a gun shone in his hips holster. Alexia gasped quietly as he reached out, his palm colliding with her mother's cheek.

"Don't you dare lie to me Kizuta! I know you've been keeping tabs on that girl, and I want to know what she's up to!" He let his jaw muscles clench. "Don't make me do something that I'll regret."

Kizuta rubbed her face and stared back at him defiantly. "Don't ever hit me again, Humaki, or you'll get nothing out of me." 

Humaki's mouth formed a snaking grin. "So you admit that you do know something about her don't you." Kizuta blinked, then turned away. "How quaint, _you_ protecting a former comrade." He moved forward and began to caress her shoulders. "You know that she's as good as dead anyway. Midii Une will not live through this war."

Kizuta spun, facing the man hovering over her. "W-What do you mean by that?"

Humaki smiled. "Exactly what I said. She will die before the final battle concludes." Alexia's mother shook as she pulled away from his haunting grip.

"No, she's too valuable for you to just kill." Humaki nodded in agreement. 

"True, but that doesn't mean that others cannot be taught just as she had been. Wars can easily corrupt and change people. In the coming age, another Midii Une will not be difficult to create." Kizuta let her hair fall around her shoulders. Her eyes met with those of her daughter for an instant. _Run!_ her eyes screamed. But with childish persistence, Alexia stayed.

Kizuta took a deep breath, inhaling deeply to calm her thoughts. "Leave. You've caused enough damage already." Humaki snorted.

"You mean that foolish priest outside?" he laughed, a deep rumble in his throat. "He was merely another casualty of war. Perhaps if you had made yourself easier to find, he wouldn't have had to die."

Alexia gasped, quickly covering her mouth to stifle the sound. Humaki's ears perked, following Kizuta's gaze toward the doorway. His large boot kicked the door, forcing the wood to slam back and hit the small girl in the face.

"Stop it!" Kizuta screamed, rushing to shield her daughter. A trickle of blood ran down Alexia's forehead. She shivered slightly in her mother's embrace. Humaki stood, his eyes glaring threateningly at the small girl. His temples throbbed and Alexia could hear his teeth grind. He let his hand rest gently on the end of his gun.

"I never knew you had a child Kizuta," he drawled, cocking his pistol. "Though I shouldn't be surprised. She looks exactly like you. But I wonder," he aimed at Alexia's slouched form. "Is she just as stubborn as her mother?"

Kizuta rose protectively. "What do you want?" 

Humaki growled. "That girl is an accident waiting to happen, and must be eliminated. Get out of the way."

Trowa hesitated a bit as he walked down the medal corridor toward the Med Ward. He had no idea what he even wanted to say to her. He rested his fingers lightly on the cool steel of the keypad. He could hear rustling within the room. _At least she hasn't managed to escape again,_ he managed to convince himself as he typed the entrance code into the luminescent keys next to the doorway. 

Ever since Midii Une had escaped, her security had been doubled. Heero didn't appreciate it when someone escaped from Preventer in general, let alone in the middle of a war. It compromised his image as both a head Preventer operative and gundam pilot. Though the others had tried to convince him that though he was a valued member, and that Lady Une was still the executive chief, Heero still took the job seriously enough to give orders whenever he deemed necessary. Luckily no one objected.

The room was a bit darker than he expected, and it took a minute for his eyes to adjust. Midii was facing the corner, stretching. Her movements were limited, and Trowa noticed she never leaned to her right. Her breathing seemed ordinary, barely ranging into a pant.

He stared at her for a moment, watching the ripples of finely toned muscles from beneath the thin hospital dress, and the golden fan of hair as it slid down her shoulders. Then Midii turned, her eyes frozen and callous.

"What do you want, Nanashi?" she snapped. She walked cautiously toward the bed, never letting him out of her line of vision. Trowa shifted his weight, waiting as she again fiddled with her bandages.

"You need to stop messing with them," he said, nearly whispering. Midii stopped and turned to him.

"Don't you dare tell me what to do," she said curtly, swinging back onto the floor, limping toward him and grimacing slightly. "I never asked you to save me." Trowa leaned against the doorframe. He shut his eyes, refusing to look at her mending figure. It had only been a little more than a month since he'd first found her buried beneath the rubble, but her battered, bleeding body was still prominent in his memory. He did not want to see her more than he had to now.

"Perhaps not, but," Trowa paused and took a deep breath. "Now that I did, are you going to just throw your life away again?" He opened his eyes enough to see her mouth clamp shut. Her eyes glared at him defiantly for an instant before she turned her back to him. Her hair waved slightly above her shoulders.

"Why?" she mumbled, her arms hanging limply at her sides. "What is it that would make you want to save me?" Midii turned; her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Haven't I caused you enough trouble?!"

His eyes snapped open. Had she wanted to die? He knew from experience what it was like to wish for nothing but to go to sleep and never wake up again; he knew what it was like to feel hollow inside and yet have things eat away at the last shards of humanity remaining. The feeling of being entirely and utterly lost was all too familiar.

"Why," she repeated, "Would you want to save someone like me?" Trowa glanced at her, noticing that the tears had still to fall.

"Because I have yet to save myself," he answered, his voice refusing to display the tumultuous emotions spinning within. "But I could always save you, Midii. You were always there when I couldn't escape my own self-inflicted prison. You were the only person to make me feel human." He looked up from the linoleum floor, locking gazes with the woman across the room. "That's why I couldn't kill you that day; that's why I couldn't bring myself to let you die."

Midii was silent a moment, before letting out a curt snort. "I'm no use to anyone alive," she repeated, leaning against the bed. "Not even to you, Nanashi. Don't let your naïveté blind you from the truth. I'm not the vulnerable, innocent little girl from your past." As she glanced at him, again she was met again with his tearless mask. She turned away, continuing to hold back her tears. She would not cry for him.

"I knew that the moment I rescued you," he spoke, barely above a whisper. "But you're still Midii." She bit her lip, nibbling on the tender flesh. A flush rushed across her neck.

"Tell me," she questioned, desperate to change the subject. "How is it that you are still fight with the gundams? Were they not destroyed after the war with Mariemaia?"

Trowa shuffled his feet a bit before gazing at her through the mask of his bangs. "He had destroyed the gundams, but as that time we expected peace to last much longer than merely two years."

"You rebuilt them?" she asked, her eyes growing slightly wider. "But-But how? Without the scientists-"

"How did you know about them? Trowa cut in, his jade eyes glaring.

"I worked during the wars, remember," she retorted, sidestepping his question. "Now tell me, how could you have built them without the assistance of Dr. J and the others? I was under the impression that all data on the gundams construction was lost when they were…eliminated." She spoke the last words a bit slower than the others, her eyes searching his shrouded face for some hint of emotion. But she shuttered and adverted her gaze as she was met with his constant glare.

"When they were , eliminated," he answered, slightly drawing out the final syllables. "We had already transferred the gundam blue prints to one of our own computers." Midii nodded and closed her eyes as her mind began to rolodex.

"Winner Corp. computers," she finally answered, as if to some unasked question. She smiled inwardly, noticing the brief glint of surprise brush through his eyes. "It's not that difficult to figure," she reassured him. "Or at least not for someone with my credentials. Winner Corp. would only be the reasonable place to store the files; maximum security plus ample resources to construct the machines when needed." Midii grinned, the corners of her lips curling toward her eyes. "Who would have imagined that the most pacifistic person in your entire group, Quatre Winner, would be housing the very means of destruction?" She flipped her hair, observing the muscles along his jaw line become taunt. "A bit hypocritical don't you think? Advocating peace by day and destroying lives by night…

"Shut up." He'd tried to restrain the emotions swelling up within him, and yet-- "It's much more complicated than that."

Midii propped herself on the bed, grabbing her knees and a pillow toward her chest. "Well of course it is, Nanashi," she snorted. "Because that's what you all do, is it not?

Trowa's breathing became a bit faster. "My name is Trowa now," he insisted, not sure how to reply to her question. Midii sneered.

"No, it's not!" she snapped. "you stole that name, just like you've stolen so many other things…"

At that moment, the door behind him slid open with a gentle whoosh. Quatre stood silhouetted in the doorframe, slightly out of breath. Midii tilted her head to the side, playing up an innocent manner. "Well well, if it isn't Quatre Winner himself! Won't you join us? I seem to have dear Nanashi at a loss for words and our conversation has become rather boring. Perhaps you would help liven up the debate?"

Quatre shot a quick glace at his friend before smiling apologetically. He bowed slightly. "I'm afraid that I'll have to decline Miss, I simply came to retrieve Trowa. Perhaps another time…"

Midii let her feet dangle to the side, still clutching onto the pillow. "I'll hold you to that. It does get a bit tiresome sitting alone in the dark." Quatre nodded.

"Trowa, Heero needs you at the front. He says it's an emergency. Something about you were with him…"

Trowa unclenched his fists and relaxed his cramped fingers. "All right then." He glanced back at Midii. "We aren't finished." Then he left, with the same subtle whoosh as before.

Midii placed the pillow beside her and gently eased her face into the downy material. She listened for the scuffle and murmur of voices outside her door.

It was only when she was certain she was alone that she allowed herself to cry. The tears spilled onto the pillow in a salty rage, soaking into the fabric as it also subdued her muffled sobs.

Midii swore at herself, cursing her weakness. Every time she saw him, everything was thrown out of order. She always felt so defenseless in his presence. She didn't want to be saved anymore.

Midii turned, the tears sill striding down her face, and concentrated on the slowly spinning blades of the fan. She didn't want to feel the scared, insecure child within her anymore. She had been so sure that the girl she once was had died, yet with Nanashi around, the child came back, kicking and screaming to be let loose.

She pulled the back of her hand across her tear-stained cheeks, then rested it on her forehead. As the blades continued to turn, she promised herself and the darkness that she would never let Nanashi see her cry. She wouldn't allow him that pleasure.

Trowa cringed as he walked down the hallway, his hands shoved into his pockets . Quatre gave him a sideway glance, then smiled. "Having trouble with her again?" he asked, not needing his reply to know the answer.

Trowa let his toe scuff the floor, before running his gently quivering fingers through his bangs. "She so infuriating." Quatre whistled tunelessly for a second, then put his hand comfortingly on Trowa's shoulder.

"I have to admit, I've never seen you this rattled before. Women really do own the hearts of men." Quatre gazed into the flickering lights of the corridor as they rounded the corner. "Allah knows I've had enough trouble with my sisters _and_ Dorothy. But one thing's for certain; they sure make things interesting."

Trowa stopped, slamming his fist against the wall. His shoulders were hunched, hiding his face even more so than his bangs. "You just don't understand at all Quatre. I look at her and I see the same eyes, the same smile, the same hair falling around her face. I look at her and I never know whether to hold her, or strangle her." Quatre winced, but after a moment shrugged his shoulders. 

"So what are you going to do about it?" he asked, noting how his friend stood straight at his question. "Are you certain that she's the same person as well? I doubt Heero will continue to grant you visitation rights if you make an attempt at her throat." He continued down the corridor, listening for the quiet footfalls behind him.

"Just remember Trowa," he said as the sound began to echo his own. He stopped in front of the door. "Just remember what wars do to people. Don't hold it against her for what she did; don't hold it against anyone for what they did." Quatre let his hand rest gingerly on his left side. It had been years, but the scar Dorothy's foil had caused on Libra was still prominent against his pale skin. "If you can learn to forgive, I'm sure you can find that the woman you love is only wearing a mask to protect what little emotions she has left."

"Quatre…" Trowa narrowed his eyes, then shook his head dejectedly. "I guess you're right." Quatre grinned as they stepped into the room.

Heero looked up as they entered, his expression firm and genuinely irritated. "Where have you been?" he snapped. "We have an issue on our hands." He pointed toward Sally.

The doctor was standing in the corner, bent over a small chair and mumbling softly. "Are you alright?" she cooed. As Trowa neared, he could see the small girl perched on the seat. Her hair was plastered about her red, swollen eyes, and her shoulders shook slightly as muffled sobs escaped her petite frame. The girl refused to answer, shrugging off Sally's attempts to brush the hair from her face. 

"Please, let me help," Sally coaxed, continuing to try and wipe the girls face. Trowa knelt next to Sally.

"Who's this?" Sally looked at him hopefully. 

"I was hoping you could tell me." She motioned toward Heero. "Heero tells me that the three of you had a run in earlier." Trowa frowned and looked back at the small figure. Like Sally, he went to move the hair from her eyes. She made not protest, but refused to look him in the eye. Instead, she fiddled with the buckles on the small case lying in her lap.

Trowa pulled his hand away from her face after a moment, glancing down at his palm. It was slick with blood. Sally gasped and ran for the bandages.

Heero grunted and narrowed his eyes. "Do you remember her now, Trowa?" he asked, voice tinged with an unusual tartness. Trowa nodded, wiping his hand on the canvas of his jacket.

"Alexia." The girl let out a sniffle, clutching the flute to her chest. Sally dabbed a cotton swab over the large gash on her forehead. Most of the blood had dried into a crusty trail along her skin, but it looked as if the wound had reopened. Alexia bit her lip and more tears streamed down her face.

Sally stood, chucking the soiled swabs into the trash. Her eyes flared, fingers nimbly wrapping the bandage around Alexia's head.

Trowa leaned against the wall, allowing his arms to hang lifelessly at his sides. "How did she get here? Do you know?" Heero snorted, his head snapping to the side. 

"We haven't been able to get anything out of her but useless crying."

"Heero!" Sally shouted, causing the room to jump. "How dare you! Have you no compassion?" Heero growled.

"Have you no sense? We're in the middle of a war, and suddenly little crying girls, beaten up by their parents, come waltzing through our doors. If children can find where we are positioned, who's to say that the enemy can't find us as well?"

Quatre made a silent protest. "That's true, Heero, but can we really just turn her away? Her parents may have hit her-"

"My mother never hit me." Alexia broke in from the corner, her voice choked with tears. "My mother would never strike me." Both Quatre and Sally's brows furrowed.

"Then, who did this to you? And why didn't you go to your mother?" Alexia slid from the corner, falling to her knees. She rested her face against the cool ground, letting the tears splash onto the tile. She could still smell the blood of the cathedral, and the smoke from the pistol. She didn't want to remember what happened, but the images continued to explode behind her eyelids.

"M-My mother's gone," she wailed after a moment. Alexia lifted her body enough to glance at her frostbitten fingers. The crimson liquid caked her palms. She pulled her fingers into a fist. Sally wrapped her arms around the child, rocking her back and forth. 

"Shh…shhh…there there now. It's going to be alright." Quatre leaned next to Sally as the crying began to subside.

"You'd make a wonderful mother Sally," Quatre said lightly, lifting the girl's chin. He looked into Alexia's eyes, swollen from tears. "Do you know who did this to you?"

Alexia pulled her chin away and yanked herself from Sally's hold. She nodded, mumbling a name beneath her breath. Quatre's eyes grew wide, glancing frantically at Trowa, then back at the child again huddled in the corner. "Are you sure?"

Alexia stood, her legs wobbling beneath her weight. She grabbed Sally's coat for support, and turned to face Heero and Trowa. She nodded, attempting to ebb the tears flowing down her face.

"Midii Une. Midii Une is the one who did this to me."

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A/N: I'm extremely sorry it took this long for finish the chapter. I hope it was worth the wait though. Not much action, but hopefully it should leave you with a few questions. I'd love to tell you what to expect next chapter…but I'm not exactly too certain myself. Please don't forget to review!!


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